Adventurers Beware
by GreatKateZonkeyMachine
Summary: Reynie, Kate, Constance, and Sticky stumble across a mysterious board game and decide to try it out... Violence.
1. Mr and Mrs Washington

Duhellooo. GKZM here. This is the first chapter in a multichapter fic that will elate some people and send others running away screaming and trying to claw out their own eyes. I'm sure most people in the Jumanji fandom have never heard of MBS, and I'm also sure that a few in the MBS fandom are new to Jumanji. So with luck this will stir up some inter-fandom dynamics. (P.S. I know that we already have a Mr. and Mrs. Washington, but that chapter title was an artistic choice; this is a _different _Mr. and Mrs. Washington.)

Disclaimer: **If I own the Mysterious Benedict Society or Jumanji, then may a hoarde of giant mosquitoes, stampeding rhinos, angry monkeys and Van Pelt bowl me over. (;**

Chapter One: Mr. and Mrs. Washington

"He's hopeless," said Kate in disgust. She turned away from Mr. Curtain and strode out of the room. Giving Mr. Curtain a genuinely sad look, S.Q. followed her.

"Any luck?" said Reynie.

"No," said S.Q. "He won't talk to any of us."

"Ugh," Constance moaned. "I don't see why we have to keep coming here every month. We'll never make any progress."

"Now, don't say that," S.Q. admonished. "We mustn't give up hope."

"He is right," Mr. Benedict said sagely. "My brother has an excellent mind, he just chose to use it the wrong way. If we could only persuade him to talk to S.Q, there would be a chance we could sway him."

"But we don't really need _him,_" said Kate. "The government already has his tidal turbines."

"But imagine," said Mr. Benedict, "how many more great things could come from the mind that made the turbines, and the Whisperer."

Everybody looked at him. Usually they all avoided talking about the dreaded Whisperer. It was a mark of how strongly Mr. Benedict felt about the situation that he would reference it here.

"Does this mean we are leaving?" said Number Two. "I'm anxious for dinner."

"Never fear, dear Number Two," said Mr. Benedict. "We shall go shortly."

"So, Pencilla, what's for supper?" said Constance with a toothy grin.

Number Two scowled. Ever since Constance had learned her embarrassing first name, she never lost an opportunity to use it.

The name Pencilla suited Number Two. She had a straight stiff posture and a yellowish complexion, and also seemed to be of the belief that one's clothing should match one's skin color, because she always wore vertical yellow stripes. What with her short-cropped rusty red hair, and the black stilettos she was wearing today, she looked even more the pencil than usual. She always wanted to be called by her code name, and would never have willingly given her real name to Constance.

But Constance was not easy to keep secrets from. She happened to have an extraordinary ability rather similar to Extra-Sensory Perception that gave her the ability to predict small events shortly before they happened and, in essence, read minds. These powers required constant pruning by her ingenious adopted father, not least because Constance, who was fond of writing rude poetry, was only four years old.

She was one of four extraordinary children who had dubbed themselves the Mysterious Benedict Society, named after their mentor and Constance's guardian, Nicholas Benedict. The other three children were Reynie Muldoon, a boy who had an uncanny ability to read people and solve riddles without the aid of telepathic powers; Kate Wetherall, a girl who was likely as not to walk up to you on her hands and shake your hand with her toes; and Sticky Washington, who remembered every tiny bit of information he took in.

This motley bunch of misfits were the best of friends, and all lived within thirty feet of each other, where they liked to send Morse code messages back and forth at night. Occasionally they held meetings, but these were quite different from the ones that had occurred when Ledroptha Curtain was at large. They had been recruited by Mr. Benedict to help take down Mr. Curtain, who was using advanced technology of his own making to broadcast subliminal messages to every TV-watcher, radio-listener, and cellphone-user on the planet.

Mr. Benedict and Mr. Curtain were both victims of a rare sleeping disorder known as narcolepsy. Constance had used her mental powers to cure Mr. Benedict of his, but Curtain still suffered from it. Both men were in the habit of wearing green suits because of the soothing effect the color had on them; Mr. Benedict still wore them simply because he like them, and Curtain was allowed to wear one because he was the only prisoner in the facility where he was kept.

An orphan himself, Mr. Benedict was responsible for each of the kids' having a guardian, for they had all at one point been orphans and runaways. Mr. Benedict had three adopted daughters: Constance, Rhonda Kazembe, an immigrant from Africa, and Number Two. He also had a bodyguard named Milligan, who'd had his memory wiped by Mr. Curtain and miraculously recovered it, discovering that he was in fact Kate's father.

At the moment Reynie and Kate slept in neighboring "apartments" in Mr. Benedict's house, where they lived with him, Rhonda, Constance, Number Two, Kate's father Milligan, and Reynie's guardians. Sticky and his parents lived across the street in a suburb of Stonetown, Massachusetts. Periodically they were required to therapeutically visit Mr. Curtain in his prison, where they saw on occasion their friend S.Q. Pedalian. S.Q. was a young adult who had once worked for Mr. Curtain, but realized his mistake in the end.

"I do not know exactly what we'll be having," said Number Two brusquely, "Rhonda's making it."

"But right now," said Milligan, putting an arm around his thirteen-year-old daughter's shoulders, "It's time to go."

"Will you be joining us," S.Q?" asked Number Two politely.

"Can't," S.Q. replied apologetically. "I've got to meet someone."

"Next time, then."

S.Q. nodded.

* * *

It was at dinnertime that the incident happened.

Everybody had come over to Mr. Benedict's house for dinner. Rhonda had just pulled a steaming turkey out of the oven, and most were getting settled, laughing and talking gaily, at the dining table, when there was a sudden loud crash from outside, followed by a twanging sound and a small yelp of pain.

They all rushed outside. Lying on the wet grass in the backyard was Kate Wetherall. There was a quivering rope strung from an upstairs window to the roof of another house roughly fifteen feet above her.

"What happened?" cried Rhonda, rushing over to her, but Kate said nothing.

It was pretty clear to Reynie what had occurred: Kate had lassoed the neighboring house and started to walk across the rope – why, he had no idea – but had lost her balance, which was the most confusing part of the whole situation. How on Earth had _Kate Wetherall _fallen?

Milligan reprimanded Kate over her foolishness for the next ten minutes, and then they ate the considerably cold dinner that had been sitting waiting for them the whole time. After dinner, the kids went up to Constance's bedroom, where they finally got a chance to question Kate.

"What were you trying to do?" said Sticky, clearing dirty socks off the floor to sit down.

"And what made you fall?" said Reynie, dragging an upturned laundry basket to the middle of the room for a stool.

"I was just bored," said Kate simply. "I felt like doing something, so I made something to do. I threw the rope out of a second-floor window; I was just going to do some tightrope-walking while I waited for dinner."

"But how did you fall?" Reynie persisted.

Kate looked uncomfortable. Constance beat her to a reply. "She doesn't want to tell us!" Constance said wickedly. "She's too embarrassed!"

"What do you mean, 'embarrassed?'" said Sticky.

"Alright, fine!" Kate said in a voice of resignation. "I lost my balance, okay? I'm out of practice."

The others exchanged incredulous looks. Kate scowled. "There hasn't been anything to _do _since we put the Ten Men in jail. It's so dull! The only thing to look forward to is these meetings, and even those are less exciting with nothing urgent or important to talk about."

"I agree," said Reynie. "What you need – what we all need – is an adventure. Like the one Mr. Benedict planned for us, except I envision this one without Mr. Benedict getting kidnapped."

"But we can't exactly just waltz up to Mr. Benedict and ask him to pretty-please take us on safari," said Sticky.

"Why not?" Constance demanded. She was ignored.

"We'll just have to make our own adventure," said Kate.

* * *

It transpired that the adults had been having a similar conversation, although with a singularly different outcome. The next morning, Rhonda informed them – smiling broadly – that they would all be going on a vacation to visit Sticky's grandparents in two days' time.

"Where do they live?" said Constance, who did not seem very thrilled by the ideas.

"About two hundred seventy miles north of here," said Rhonda.

"Brantford, New Hampshire," Sticky clarified.

"Two hundred seventy miles?" Constance asked in disgust. "How long will that take?"

"Four to five hours," Rhonda admitted. "But hey, look at the bright side! A trip out of town could be exactly what you kids need. It'll take your mind off of things, and there's lots of fun things to do there. Brantford's got a lovely park with a nice little river, and the biggest discount store in the world – never know what you'll find there – plus, the shoe factory is open to tourists. That'd be a bit of an adventure, don't you think?"

The children glanced at one another at the word "adventure."

"Parrish manor still has an owner," continued Rhonda. "And he lives there, so you can't look inside that. But there's always the factory and the statue, right?"

"Hold the phone," said Constance rudely. "Who is Parrish?"

"The Parrishes were the people who first settled the city," Sticky explained. "They've got a shoe company there."

"Hey, I've heard of them!" said Kate brightly. "Parrish Shoes!"

Rhonda nodded. "Angus Parrish founded Brantford, and now the family's selling shoes to everybody in the city."

"Everyone in _New England_," said Kate.

"But back to Sticky's grandparents," Rhonda said. "They live near the discount store, which is near the river – so you can visit it whenever you like!"

"How long will we be staying there?" asked Reynie.

"Two weeks," said Rhonda. "So you'd better start packing!"

And pack they did. It took the whole forty-eight hours, as the adults insisted on having them pack themselves extra clothes and as many books and DVDs (none of them liked to watch broadcasted television, even though the messages had long gone silent, but they were partial to a movie or two) as they could cram into their suitcases.

All together, the Washingtons, Benedicts, Perumals and Wetheralls had four vehicles. The Perumals owned a station wagon, the Washingtons a civic, the Wetheralls a pickup truck, and the Benedicts a minivan. All of them except for one were used for this particular getaway; the Washingtons and Reynie took their car, and the Perumals, Constance and most of the luggage went in their station wagon. Kate and Milligan had the truck all to themselves. Mr. Benedict, Rhonda, and Number Two would not be going, as they had too much "official business" to attend to.

The drive was long, and the civic's air conditioner was faulty, but Reynie enjoyed it immensely nonetheless. It was nice to spend a few hours simply chatting unworriedly with his best friend and his best friend's parents (the former slightly more so than the latter, of course). Kate and Milligan were having no worse a time in their truck. Indeed, the only person not satisfied by the experience – rather predictably – was Constance. She huffed and complained about the distance the entire distance, and pestered the soft Perumals into buying her two milkshakes along the way.

Sticky's grandparents owned more yard space than any house any of them had ever seen – with the exception of Kate, who had once lived on a farm with Milligan. They were all from a crowded metropolis where there was not a one-story building in sight. However, Brantford was not a hustling bustling city, but a pleasant town in which most people knew each other. Most people had a nicely sized front yard, and the Washingtons were no exception.

"I'd wager it's about one-twenty feet by sixty," said Kate with her hands on her hips, surveying the front yard.

Mr. and Mrs. Washington were already standing on the front porch waiting for them, waving and smiling. They were the parents of Sticky's mother, and one of them had arthritis like her. Constance and the Perumals had not yet arrived – mostly likely held up by ice-cream-purchasing – so Kate, Reynie, Sticky and his parents greeted his grandparents by themselves. It was Reynie's first time seeing them and they him, but Kate had met them once before.

"Oh, you've grown so much!" cried Mrs. Washington at Kate before hugging her.

Reynie shook hands with Mr. Washington in his wheelchair, and then they all went inside to get reacquainted and, in Reynie's case, introduced.

Constance and the Perumals pulled into the driveway a little over twenty minutes later, and they all went out for lunch. Of course, Constance was already full of ice cream and did not eat anything that was ordered for her.

It was not much of an exciting adventure, but at least they now had a new place to explore for the next fourteen days. Hopefully, they'd find something mildly interesting to occupy themselves with.

**AN: For those who were confused, Kate wasn't walking from the ROOF of the house, just the second floor. She threw the rope to the roof of one of their NEIGHBORS' houses, which are a lot smaller than Mr. B's.**


	2. The Regrettable Episode at the River

This next chapter is when the story begins to resemble Jumanji, with the discovery of the board in the river. It's rather short; sorry 'bout that. By the way, why are there so few stories in the Jumanji archive? It's golden FF material, so I can only assume that not a lot of people know about it. I guess after a while all the stories would be the same.

Disclaimer: **I still haven't been trampled by a rhinoceros stampede, so it would appear that I do not own Jumanji or MBS. (;**

Chapter Two: The Regrettable Episode at the River (an imaginary 50000 dollars to anyone who can tell me where I got the inspiration for this chapter's name!)

Rhonda was completely and utterly wrong.

The shoe factory was uninteresting, and the discount store (called "Sir Sav-A-Lot") had no more interesting merchandise than any local supermarket. The only thing the children really liked about Brantford was the river – which wasn't exactly a roller coaster ride.

Towards the end of their "vacation," Mr. and Mrs. Washington were low on some foodstuffs. Reynie volunteered to go pick up groceries, just to have something to do, and dragged Constance along. Groceries were among the items provided at Sir-Sav-A-Lot, so that was where Reynie walked with Constance. Meanwhile, Sticky was curled up with a book at his grandparents' house. His parents were chatting amiably with his grandparents. Kate and Milligan, also for the sole purpose of having something to actually do, went down to the park.

"So, tell me about your spectacular fall," Milligan said wryly.

"Ha ha," said Kate. "My sides are splitting."

"Seriously! What caused you to get thrown off balance?"

"I don't think it was anything except lack of practice," Kate admitted. "I need to find time to exercise."

"You and me both, kiddo," said Milligan. "Ever since I retired from secret agent work, I've been feeling restless. You know," he said, his expression brightening. "I still haven't taught you better knot-tying."

It took a moment for Kate to realize what he was talking about. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "You mean when Curtain escaped my rope at the Institute?"

Milligan nodded. "Come to think of it, that'd be a useful skill as well."

"What would?"

"Freeing yourself from bonds, of course," Milligan replied. "Goodness gracious, I'm going to need to give you full ropework classes, aren't I?"

Kate grinned.

* * *

"God, this place is like a maze!" complained Constance, as they passed the same red-and-yellow canoe for the fourth time.

"Don't worry, I know exactly where we're going," said Reynie.

"Liar," said Constance.

"Ugh, fine," Reynie said submissively. "I'll ask for directions."

A woman in an adjacent aisle told him how to get to the checkout lines and he paid, using the money Sticky's grandmother had given him. He pocketed the change and began to push the cart into the parking lot. Constance moaned with boredom.

Reynie stopped. He'd just had an idea. "How bored are you, Constance?" he said.

"I spent the afternoon _shopping_," said Constance by way of reply.

"Well, then," said Reynie, suddenly lifting Constance in amongst the groceries. "We'll have to make shopping interesting."

He began to push, faster and faster until he was running and Constance couldn't help but laugh. "Is this what a roller coaster feels like?" she yelled.

"It's as close as you're going to get for a few years!" laughed Reynie.

They had shot off the asphalt of the parking lot now, and were rocketing down a slope towards the park. They saw Kate and Milligan standing by the river, and Reynie yelled to them. They didn't here them. He tried to slow down, but then he realized that the cart was out of his control – and it was heading straight for the Wetheralls, straight for the river.

* * *

Milligan tied a rope tightly around Kate's wrists. "Now, pay attention," he said. "To get it off, twist your hand like so." He showed her, and she managed it with some difficulty.

"Now," said Milligan, "You can work your fingers around the knot…"

Neither of them noticed the out-of-control shopping cart hurtling towards them until it was too late. When Reynie's and Constance's screams reached their ears, they were standing at the very edge of the water; Milligan shouted and ducked, but Kate was impaired by her bound hands.

The cart struck her with the force of a bull, and sent her flying into the river. The last things she heard were the yells of her friends and father, before the cold water engulfed her completely. She sank like a stone for several feet, before she stopped moving. She tried to swim up, but her hands were bound and her ankle was twisted. Amidst the pressing silence all around her, she heard quite clearly the frantic beating of her own heart, as loud as drums in her ears.

But wait… it _was _a drumbeat. The sounds were not coming from inside her, but from some invisible external source. She opened her eyes, curious.

Lying at the very bottom of the river, just a few feet below, was a strange box, tied with ancient ropes to a couple of bricks. The incessant drumming was coming from somewhere inside the box. She drifted down and put her wrists to the corner of one of the bricks. She sawed for several seconds, until she thought her lungs might burst, and then the ropes were cut. She grabbed the bundle and swam with some difficulty to the surface. She inhaled hugely as her head bobbed out of the water.

Milligan was staring out over the water at her, with a look of mingled relief and fury. Constance was whimpering on the ground, and Reynie was running back towards the bank from the direction of the Washingtons' house. He was carrying a bundle of towels. Kate was fussed over and laden with several towels. While Milligan yelled at Constance and Reynie, Kate took the opportunity to steal a glance at the box. It was entirely made of wood but for metal hinges. The cover was taken up completely by a highly decorated carved-out word: _Jumanji._

She opened the box, and caught her breath. Inside was a beautiful little platform with a smooth, round black stone set in the center of it. Her eyes were drawn by this stone, which seemed to have endless depths even though the box was only an inch or two thick. Around it, a strange pattern that she could make neither head nor tail of wound its way over the wooden surface. There was printing on the inside of the panels that opened and closed, but she did not get a chance to read it, because the others were walking back towards her now. She closed the box and hid it in her towels, telling herself that she'd look at it later.

* * *

After they had said their goodbyes to Sticky's grandparents and packed everything away, Kate had a chance to examine the mysterious box she'd found at the bottom of the river more closely. It appeared to be brand new—the well-polished wood was flawless and the paint unfaded—which made no sense considering the age of the ropes around it and how it had been buried at the bottom of the river. It was obviously hand-crafted, and whoever had made it had done so with great care; the word "Jumanji" was surrounded by intricately detailed carvings of elephants and monkeys and other thematic jungle animals. There was a backdrop of wild ferns and a smoking volcano on a savanna and a white spear cut through the word "Jumanji," also marking the slit where case opened. She opened it and was once again mesmerized by the deep black stone in the middle. Gazing at the winding pattern on the board, she noticed something she hadn't before: there was print on the inside of the wings. She squinted at the red and black letters on one of the wings. It said, _Jumanji: A game for those who seek to find a way to leave their world behind. You roll the dice to move your token, doubles gets another turn, and the first player to reach the end wins._

_So it's a board game,_ thought Kate. This, if anything, made her more impressed and mystified by the quality and attention to detail on a thing that most people just slapped some colors onto a cardboard slab to make a couple of bucks. She looked for the tokens and the dice, but there appeared to be none.

"What's that you've got?" said Milligan from the front seat, glancing at Jumanji in the rear-view mirror.

Kate hastily closed Jumanji and tucked it away under her seat. "Just an old board game I brought with me."

The game was such a treasure, such a prize, that she did not want to share it with anyone just yet. It had, after all, been _she _who'd found it in the river. When she did show it to someone else, it would be the other members of the Mysterious Benedict Society. After all, what interest did adults ever have in board games anyway? It'd just be wasting Milligan's time. She'd surprise Reynie, Constance and Sticky with it at the next Society meeting, and then maybe they'd play it.


	3. The Game Begins

Oh, Kate. Why do you have to be so curious? Hello again, my dear readers, and welcome to the third chapter of Adventures Beware, in which the Society starts playing a game that they will have no choice but to finish. Sorry it's only four pages; I didn't realize how short this chapter would be when I divided the plot into chapters.

Disclaimer:

Chapter Three: The Game Begins

"…And we'll be back around three, okay?"

Reynie nodded. "We'll be fine," he assured her.

Miss Perumal smiled. "I know you will."

Mr. Benedict's house was empty; it had been nearly a month since the last trip to a grocery store. Mr. Benedict had written a three-page list of things to buy and given it to the Perumals, who were going to purchase them all in the station wagon. Meanwhile Mr. Benedict, Rhonda and Number Two were going to a meeting. This meeting concerned Milligan and his retire from secret agent work: apparently, the agency was not ready to let Milligan go, and that he was still under contract. Mr. Benedict was going on Milligan's behalf to prove that Milligan was under _his _employment, not theirs. Milligan himself was busy getting ready for a job interview—a normal, not-dangerous-in-the-least job—and was preoccupied in front of his mirror and in his closet. Apart from him (and he would be leaving in the next twenty minutes anyway), the children were alone in the house.

This was the perfect time for Kate to show Jumanji to the others.

So while Milligan was getting dressed, Kate was walking down the hall to Reynie's room with the game tucked under her arm. She knocked incessently until he opened the door, and then she said, "I want to show you something cool."

"Okay," said Reynie. "What is it?"

"It's this!" She waved the box, but did not let him look at it closely yet.

"What's that?" said Reynie, nonplussed.

"A surprise. C'mon, let's go get Sticky and Constance!"

Reynie went upstairs to fetch Constance from her room ("This is stupid! She won't even tell us what it _is?_") and Kate went across the street to ask if Sticky could come over. Two minutes later they were all gathered on the floor of Kate's tidy bedroom with Milligan in the next room.

Kate placed the box in the middle of their circle, and all three of the others caught their breath.

"What," said Sticky in a hushed voice, "is that?"

"It's a board game," said Kate, grinning.

"A _board game?_"

Reynie picked it up gently and examined the craftsmanship on the cover. "This is exquisite," he breathed. "May I?"

"Of course," said Kate.

He opened the game and was dumbfounded by the inside. They all peered at the mesmerizing squares and the stone, and Sticky said, "You're sure this is a board game?"

"Yes, I am! Read it."

Reynie turned his head to read the red and black print on the wings. "_Jumanji: A game for those who seek to find a way to leave their world behind. You roll the dice to move your token, doubles gets another turn, and the first player to reach the end wins._"

"Well, let's play!" said Constance eagerly.

"Wait," said Sticky. "It says something different on the other side."

Kate frowned. "I didn't notice that."

So Sticky read aloud: "_Adventures beware: Do not begin unless you intend to finish. The exciting consequences of the game will vanish only when a player has reached Jumanji and called out its name._"

"Cool," said Constance. "Can we play now?"

"But there aren't any dice or tokens," Kate pointed out.

"What's this, then?" said Reynie. He reached out and opened a small compartment under the print.

Kate's frown deepened. "That's another thing I hadn't noticed."

Reynie withdrew his hand, and in it were six objects: a wooden pawn shaped like a rhinoceros, one shaped like an elephant, one shaped like a zebra, one shaped like a monkey, and two dice. "I guess we start at the corners…," he said uncertainly, but he didn't need to figure it out for himself; without so much as a warning, the wooden pieces flew from his hand and stood upright, perfectly centered on each of the corner spaces.

Constance's eyes widened. Sticky muttered "Magnets. Or microchips."

"I want to go first!" cried Constance, totally enchanted. She snatched the dice from Reynie's hand and rolled them. The first dice read three, the second read one. To the astonishment of everyone present, the rhino piece _moved _of its own accord. It slid down the path four squares and then stopped.

Sticky seized the dice and inspected them, trying to find the sensors that had signaled the piece. But Reynie grabbed his sleeve and pointed.

Greenish mist had appeared deep in the stone. As they stared, the mist solidified into a wavering phrase: _A foe from which you cannot flee, an enemy you cannot see._

No sooner had the words appeared than they faded again. Sticky said, "Put it away."

"But we've only just—!"

"Put it away! Magnets and carvings are all well and good, but that wasn't right."

"Relax, Sticky," said Reynie. "It's just…a really good digital effect."

"But what does it _mean? _I mean, that riddle had to be important somehow—it can't have just been nonsense!"

"Well, whatever it means," said Constance. "It wasn't a very good rhyme. I could've done better." She coughed.

"No," said Sticky. He sounded deeply disturbed. "I don't want to do this. There's something not right about this game."

He tossed the dice onto the board and stood to leave. But before he had even reached the door he heard Kate hiss "_Sticky!_" behind him.

He turned. The monkey was sliding purposefully over the board, winding its way along its path; it stopped at the tenth square. The game didn't know the difference between a roll of the dice and his toss.

The mist was forming again, but this time the rhyme was different….

_She sneaks on her prey in the dark of the night, she'll strike you hard and squeeze you tight._

"What's that mean?" said Constance.

"Well," said Kate, "It _sounds _like it's talking about some sort of snake. Maybe it just displays a randomly chosen jungle-themed riddle every time you throw."

"Do you still want to stop playing?" said Reynie.

"Yes," Sticky said at once.

At the same time as Sticky stood up again, Kate realized that her father had stopped making noise in the next room. And at the same time as he was opening the door, there came a huge _thump! _against the wall that made the whole room shudder.

Kate leaped to her feet; alarmed, Reynie did the same and Sticky wrenched around. They ran to the other door and flung it open. Kate cried out.

Milligan was staggering around the room, his face blue, unable to speak. Coiled tightly around his entire body was a gigantic snake—a Burmese python. It was squeezing, constricting, suffocating him. With a startled flick of its tongue, the snake turned its head to look at the three children who stood framed in the doorway. Abandoning its other prey, the snake slithered over to them in a second and began to circle, winding around them and pushing them together, deciding which of them to eat.

When she saw the python, Constance screamed and was about to run off, but Reynie yelled, "No! Don't make any sudden movements—if you do, it'll bite you!"

"No." Sticky shook his head, barely able to find his voice for fear. "Python's aren't venomous. This thing wants to strangle us, not poison us."

All four of them stood stock-still. The python was still circling, circling. Finally, it made its choice. The serpent began to entwine itself around the ankles of Kate, the meatiest.

But Reynie was not about to let that happen. As soon as the python was distracted, he lunged towards Constance—who backed away in alarm—and grabbed the board. Holding it by the edge, he swung it at the snake's head and knocked it off of Kate, who fell over. The python landed on Kate's bed.

The snake reared up angrily and faced Reynie. Reynie tried to block it with the game, but he was no match for a snake's strike; its face shot like a bullet at Reynie's thigh, where it bit deep into his flesh and pulled away. Reynie cried out in pain and fell to his knees, involuntarily turning as he did so—thus, the second strike from the python hit the middle of Reynie's back.

Sticky was frozen, terrified tears streaming down his face. But Kate kept her head: She ran into the next room and grabbed Milligan's tranquilizer gun (which he still had for security purposes). Just as the python was preparing to strike a third time, she aimed the gun at it from behind and fired. The dart wedged itself between its overlapping scales, and it hissed in surprise. Its tongue lolling out comically, the great serpent's head slumped onto the wooden floor, lidless eyes open and glassy.

Kate swore and rushed over to Reynie, who was shuddering and crying. Warm blood was spreading from his thigh and back; his shirt was sodden already, and it was making its way over the floor. Kate swore again in a quavering voice and ran back into Milligan's room, where she searched for his state-of-the-art First Aid Kit. She grabbed it and ran back into her own bedroom, where Constance and Sticky were gathered around Reynie and the python was unmoving on the floor. She brought it over to her friend and tore off a length of bandage, with which she bound the wounds after spreading antiseptic ointment on them. The stinging made Reynie grit his teeth, but it subsided after a minute—and the bleeding had lessened considerably, that was the most important thing.

"My God," said Kate, looking at the unconscious python. Then she said, "OH! _Milligan!_"

She tore back into her father's room and crouched at his spread-eagle, sprawled body. With a lurch of sickly dread, she found that his limbs were stiff in place. She pressed her tearstained face to his breast, and heard nothing. Kate gave a howl of anguish. "HELP! _HELP US!_" she wailed, over and over.

But there was no help to be given. Her father, her dearest, her mentor, her friend, her savior, her only family, her Milligan—Milligan was gone.


	4. Sticky's Choices

Author's Note: **Brace yourself for a lot of dialogue and not much action until the laater part of the chapter. This is probably the most character-driven chapter of the story (as the title suggests), which was fun to do. Before you make fun of me, know that I am not good at all at making up rhymes; I would ask Constance's Poetry Podium, but that would give away the surprises coming out of the game. Read and review, and I'll see you next chapter!**

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Disclaimer: **See chapter three's disclaimer.**

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Sticky knelt and put his arm around Kate's shoulders, wiping tears from his own eyes. Reynie limped his way over to comfort them as well, but Constance stayed where she was, dumbstruck by the events of the last five minutes. It was far more than a four-year-old should have to bear.

They crouched there for a minute, or maybe it was an hour, and then Sticky said, "I was wrong. We can't just put away the game. We have to get rid of it—we have to destroy it."

Kate looked at him. "Wh-what?" she said through her sobs.

"Don't tell me you don't realize what's just happened. That snake"—he jerked his thumb at the sleeping python—"came from _there._" He jerked his thumb at the game, which sat there innocently. "Remember? 'She sneaks on her prey in the dark of the night, she'll strike you hard and squeeze you tight.' It can't be coincidence."

"Sticky's right," said Reynie sadly. "I don't see how it can be possible, but it's obviously true."

Kate could only rock back and forth and cry.

There came a furious banging from the next room. Thinking it was another snake, the children ran to the door; but it was only Constance, who had heard them talking and was attempting to break the game by beating it against the floor.

Reynie smiled. "I don't think it'll be quite that easy, Constance," he said. "It probably can't be hurt at all."

"Then we'll have to close it up," said Sticky, "and put it back where we found it—we'll tie it to some cinderblocks and throw it in the Stonetown River."

"It's t-t-t-too late," said Kate, trying to control herself. "The damage is done. Milligan's already d-d…"

"You don't have to say it, Kate," said Reynie compassionately, though he was on the verge of tears himself. He groaned and clutched his side.

"We have to call the others," said Constance.

"First things first," said Reynie. "We can't just sit here and wait for it to wake up."

Everyone knew who he meant by _it_.

So the three older ones hoisted the thick snake's limp body and rolled it out into the hallway. "Where can we put it that we won't need to go until the adults come back?" said Sticky.

"A bathroom," Reynie replied. "Mr. Benedict has got loads."

They moved the thing into the nearest bathroom, where it covered the floor looking larger than life. Kate locked the door from the inside and pulled it closed from the outside. Then the three of them went back to Kate's room, where Constance was sitting on her bed and staring fearfully at the little board game called Jumanji.

They all glared at it. "Close it, and never open it again," said Sticky darkly.

"No, wait," Kate said and put out a hand to stop Reynie. "It said… Oh, what did it say, Sticky? Something like, 'Once you have started, the exciting consequences won't vanish until—'"

"_Do not begin unless you intend to finish_," Sticky recited effortlessly. "_The exciting consequences of the game will vanish only when a player has reached Jumanji and called out its name._"

"D'you think," said Kate, feeling unimaginably foolish and awkward, "Well…does that mean that if we finish the game, it'll bring Milligan back, maybe?"

They looked at her sympathetically. "Kate…"

"I know it sounds crazy, but so would _all _of this if we told it to someone else," she said defiantly. "It's my only hope," she added with a note of desperation. "Anyway, how do we know the _snake _can even be destroyed? The game wouldn't let us off the hook that easily." Her face suddenly became even more fearful. "What if it can summon scary things even when we _don't _roll? What if it conjures up a tiger after we stop playing?"

"I hadn't thought of that," said Reynie.

"Will you stop talking like that game can _think_, and _do _things?" said Sticky in distress. "For crying out loud, it's a _board game! _We must be crazy!" he shouted hysterically.

"Calm down, Sticky," said Reynie again. "There's no use in denying it. That game is powerful, and it's evil. It's a predator—and _we're _its prey."

"Then let's be rid of it!" said Sticky. "We can take it somewhere far away and never go back, and it won't be able to get us."

"But…" said Reynie, biting his lip, "The game told us—sorry, I mean, the instructions said—" he amended when Sticky opened his mouth, "that we wouldn't be able to quit once we started. I think that, somehow, it would rope us back in. 'Adventurers beware,' remember?"

Sticky was shaking his head frantically. "Have you both gone _insane? _Milligan is _dead _because of that game! It's _killed _someone, and you want to keep _playing_—!"

"Exactly!" said Kate, her voice rising. "The reason my father… the reason there is a man lying dead in that room,"—she pointed at Milligan's room—"is because _we _were foolish enough to play. _I _brought the game here; this is _my _fault, and I owe it to Milligan to try anything that might save him!"

It wasn't until no one was speaking that they all realized how loudly they'd been arguing.

"She's right, Sticky," said Reynie. "We asked for this. And I think we have to keep playing—for Milligan."

"For Milligan," Kate punctuated forcefully.

"For Milligan," said Constance, sneezing.

But Sticky was backing away. "No," he said. "I'm sorry, but I'm not going to play that deathtrap of a board game. You can't make me. If you guys want to gamble with death, I can't stop you—but I'm going to find Rhonda and the others."

With that, Sticky ran out of the room and up the stairs, hiding the tears on his face. Kate and Reynie listened sadly to his footsteps.

"I thought he was braver than that," said Kate, sounding dumbstruck.

"Hey," said Reynie. "Don't be too hard on him. None of us can blame him for it."

"Well," said Kate, running her hands together, "time to resume play."

Reynie picked up the dice in his shaking fingers. But before he had rolled them, Kate suddenly exclaimed "Hey!"

"I've just remembered," she said when Reynie jumped, "Constance rolled before Sticky did; what was the first rhyme? Something like, _An enemy who can't be seen…_"

Suddenly Reynie, dice still in hand, jumped back, flipping the board upside-down in his haste. He was staring at Constance with a fear almost as strong as the way he had looked at the python. "What is it?" said Kate in alarm, jumping up and backing up to the wall as well, though she had no idea what she ought to be afraid of. "What's happened?"

"_A foe from which you cannot flee…_ Yes, I suppose that would fit…. _An enemy you cannot see_… My God… I think… I think it gave Constance some kind of… of jungle disease."

Kate was staring at her too, now. Both of them looked fearful, but neither of them as fearful as Constance herself. As understanding dawned on the frightened toddler, tears welled up in her eyes and her lip began to quiver. "Does that mean," she said in a quaking voice, "I'm going to…to…"

"Will you tone it down?" Kate hissed at Reynie through the corner of her mouth. "You're scaring the pants off of her!"

"If it's contagious—"

"Then we've all caught it by now anyway," said Kate. "We're in this together." She looked straight into Constance's eyes and said in a firm, clear voice, "You listen to me, Connie-girl. Everything is going to be fine. No one else is going to die—I won't let it happen." She placed a hand on each of the girl's trembling shoulders.

Constance gulped and nodded feverishly, not altogether reassured.

"Now," said Kate. "Are we all ready for the next move? Reynie, you ready?"

Reynie nodded, his jaw set tight.

"Constance?"

Constance hesitated, and then she nodded too.

"All right," said Reynie. He stood above the game and held the dice in the air. He turned his hand slowly, until the dice tumbled from it. They landed on the left wing: a two, and a one. The elephant piece moved forward three spaces and stopped. The green mist formed again in the stone, and the children bent to read it….

_From the deepest jungle he's come out to play—this giant is not so gentle today._

"Well, _that _doesn't sound good," said Kate.

They both stood protectively around Constance and peered fearfully into the corners of the room, not knowing what to expect. Just then, from the only spot that none of the three children were looking, there came a deafening roar.

Kate and Reynie whirled around, and nearly fainted at what they saw. Chipped yellow teeth bared, head brushing the ceiling, a gargantuan black gorilla stood facing them with murder in its eyes. It beat its huge grey fists against its chest, roared again, and charged.

Kate and Reynie screamed and dived out of its way; it stepped completely over the screaming Constance and struck the opposite wall face-first. It shook its head and turned around, disoriented. Reynie took the opportunity to grab Constance out of harm's way. Kate was fumbling with her bucket, trying to get something out.

The enraged gorilla beat its chest repeatedly again and advanced on Reynie, who backed into the wall. But it stopped in its tracks, roaring with pain and rage, and Reynie saw something shiny protruding from its right shoulder; it whipped its head around and snapped at the spot where Kate's head had just been. She ran towards the spot where the tranquilizer gun was lying uselessly on the floor and snatched it up just as the gorilla overtook her.

Kate whipped the gun around and pointed it at the gorilla, but the great beast knocked it out of her hand with a backhand sweep of its long arm. It spun through the air and struck the floor, firing accidentally and embedding a feathered dart in the wall above the doorway. The gorilla grunted and advanced, and behind its back Reynie dashed over to the tranquilizer gun and picked it up, trying to figure out how to work it. He fumbled with it for a moment, and then a small blurry dart shot from the tube. It punctured the gorilla's neck and the gorilla stopped, surprised. It felt confusedly for whatever had pierced its flesh, but then the bestial hand fell limply to the gorilla's side and it keeled over backwards, breathing steadily.

Kate and Reynie stayed in place, numb with shock, panting. Constance was whimpering and rocking back and forth, hair and eyes wild. Finally Kate said in a shaking voice, "Q-q-quick thinking, Reynie—thanks."

"I d-don't even know what I did," Reynie replied. "It just went off by chance. Oh, that was too close!"

"But we can't stop," said Kate firmly. "There's a sleeping gorilla and a sleeping python in this house, and Constance has been infected with some kind of germ." She didn't need to mention Milligan. "We have to go on."

"I know," said Reynie, "but let's take a breather first."

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Sticky walked up the stairs and wiped his eyes. He felt ashamed of himself, but he knew they would never survive playing that game. He crossed the foyer in a hurry and stepped outside, planning to run to the grocery store and find the Perumals. None of them had cell phones, so Sticky would have to go on foot. He could only hope that they'd get back in time to stop Kate and Reynie from rolling the dice again.

He jumped the front steps and ran over the yard to the gate, opening it creakily and running out onto the sidewalk. It was a nice day; the sky was cloudy, but the temperature was pleasant enough. A cool breeze swished over the neighborhood. A neighbor was out watering the grass on his lawn a few houses away. From out here, no one would ever guess that such extraordinary events had been unfolding so close by.

In the street, Sticky slowed down. Was he imagining those screams and bumps from inside the house? He turned back to look at the house. There was definitely a ruckus going on inside…. Sticky stamped the ground in frustration. Who was he kidding? If he left, his friends would surely die. But he was so afraid—oh, how afraid he was!

He gritted his teeth. Was he really such a coward? Yes, if he was honest with himself, he wasn't half so brave as his friends. But they needed him….

Sticky ran forward, opened the door, and sprinted inside.

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There was no hope of moving the gorilla's massive body, so the three Society members locked it in Kate's bedroom and moved to an upstairs tapestry room. They didn't have much hope that the lock would contain the gorilla, but it felt safer all the same. At least no one could walk in on it accidentally.

They put Constance and the game on the carpet, and Kate took up the dice. None of them mentioned Sticky.

"You ready?" said Kate, holding the dice. Her army knife was on a table beside her; she had pulled it out of the gorilla's shoulder and wiped the metallic-smelling blood away, and now she was keeping it at the ready along with the gun.

"Yeah," Reynie lied. Constance was silent.

"Okay. Here goes," said Kate. "I'm gonna do it." Her hand shook. "One…"

"…Two…" said Reynie, and both of them shouted "Three!"

The dice tumbled from Kate's outstretched hand and landed on the floor—a six and a three. The token meant to look like a zebra slid smoothly down its winding path, coming to a halt nine spaces along. Reynie knew that the words would appear, but nothing could have prepared him for it. It took all his willpower to stop himself from running outside to join Sticky, or seizing the game and hurling it out of the room.

_Adders and apes are the least of your worries, when below something far worse scuttles and scurries._

Kate and Reynie frowned. "'Below?'" said Kate in puzzlement. They looked down at the floorboards, expecting to see some kind of insect or small mammal flitting between their feet. Constance, for her part, was hoping that she wasn't going to suddenly transform into a hideous little monster.

There was a horrible, bloodcurdling scream from downstairs. Kate, Reynie, and Constance whirled around. An eerie clicking sound made their skin crawl. Reynie grabbed Constance and the three of them ran downstairs to see what this new danger was. Kate had to sprint back up for the gun.

They threw the door open and a terrifying scene met them in the foyer. Sticky was lying in front of the door, which was ajar—and something was dreadfully wrong with him. He was on his back, trembling convulsively, and his mouth was foaming. Much smaller, but instantly visible, was a scorpion the size of Kate's bucket. Its exoskeleton was a dark, intimidating maroon, and its eyes glittered as black as the stone in the board.

As soon as it saw them, the scorpion gave a rattling squeal and scuttled towards them, away from its victim. Constance screamed, and Kate raised the tranquilizer gun. But the scorpion was moving too fast; one, two, three darts appeared in the floor behind it, but not one of them met its mark. The great arachnid advanced, its claws clicking, on Reynie, and then it lunged forward. Reynie jumped, and it flew between his legs. He couldn't see it, but he forcefully threw his foot back and kicked the scorpion onto the wall. Constance fell to the floor with an outraged grunt.

The scorpion climbed like a spider over the vertical surface of the foyer wall, and when it reached an appropriate height it leaped at Kate. Kate reacted like a cat: she brought up the gun and shot another dart, and this time it hit the scorpion squarely on its belly. The dart did not puncture the tissue through its brittle exoskeleton, but it was powerful enough to knock the scorpion off course, and it hit the floor and scrambled back onto its feet. It scuttled closer and closer, the dart still in its stomach, and just as it was about to lunge again Reynie stamped as hard as he could on its back.

There was a high squeak and a sickly crunching noise, and when Reynie lifted his foot it was covered in thick goop. "Yuck!" said Constance. Reynie wrinkled his nose and wiped the sole of his shoe on the floor. The three of them rushed to Sticky's side.

"He's having some kind of seizure!" cried Kate as Sticky continued to jerk and foam gushed from his lips. His eyes were bloodshot, and they rolled backwards into his head as they watched. There was a gash in his jeans, and a huge welt where the scorpion had stung him was visible through it.

"Should I get the first-aid kit?" asked Kate anxiously.

"I don't see what good it would do against poison," said Reynie.

"Then what do I do?" she wailed.

"I… I don't know," Reynie said hopelessly, running his fingers through his sweaty hair as he stared helplessly at his dying friend. Neither he nor Kate noticed Constance, thinking clearer than either of her shaken friends, snatch up the dice and toss them onto the board.

Sticky's movements were becoming more and more feeble now. At last, with a final convulsive twitch, he fell still.

Kate caught her breath. "Is he…?"

Reynie put his hand to Sticky's chest. He could feel a steady beat. "He's still alive," he said.

Suddenly, Sticky gave a huge, shuddering gasp. His eyelids fluttered open, and he blinked at them. Reynie and Kate stared, amazed, and then Reynie began to laugh with delight and Kate hugged Sticky so tightly that he groaned. "Sorry!" she said gingerly, quickly releasing him.

"What happened?" said Reynie in amazement.

Sticky pried apart the ripped stitching of his jeans and exposed the small red dot where the scorpion's venom had entered his body. It was still there, but it was no longer swollen and white. Sticky shrugged, looking no less bewildered than Reynie felt.

"Constance," said Kate, turning around, "what did you do?"

Constance held up her hands. "I just rolled! Look."

They bent and peered at the board. Constance's token was three spaces farther along, and Reynie saw the message swimming in the black stone for an instant before it dissolved: _Be free from affliction, at least for a bit. Rest carefree, and gather your wits._

Reynie stared in amazement. Constance's role had caused her infection—and apparently the scorpion's poison—to freeze.

"But why… why would the game _help _us?" said Kate incredulously.

"I suppose it wants to keep us playing," Reynie said thoughtfully.

Kate looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"Well…If Sticky had died just now, the game would've been over. But the game _likes_ it when people play. It didn't want it to end so soon. It's toying with us."

"That's a comforting thought," said Kate, edging away from the innocent-looking board game.

Sticky sat up. "I'm so—" he began, but Reynie interrupted him.

"You don't have to say it. You came back, and that's what matters."

Sticky nodded, smiling humbly.

Kate thumped his back. "You've got some guts, kiddo!"

Constance said nothing, which was better than anybody expected.

"Thanks for not abandoning us," Reynie said softly.

"But I _did_ abandon you," he whispered. "I walked out on you! I left you to—"

"No, you didn't. You came _back._"

"I'm such a coward..."

"You're the bravest of all of us," Reynie said firmly. "Now c'mon, let's go upstairs; it's your turn."


	5. Aquatic Apocalypses

Author's Note: **_Apocalypse_** **meaning any remarkable disaster or destruction. Mostly chosen for the alliteration thing. Enjoy!**

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Disclaimer: **See chapter four's disclaimer.**

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"Everybody ready?"

They were kneeling in a circle on the floor of the tapestry room upstairs, with the game at the center. Sticky had the dice in his hand, and was holding them over the board. He was determined not to break down again. He would have been comforted had he known how close his friends were to breaking down as well.

The others nodded, and everyone present knew perfectly well that they were lying. But it was impossible to really be ready; they could only roll the dice time and time again, and hope to survive the outcome.

Sticky opened his hand and the yellowing dice fell onto the board. The first die stopped with three black dots facing up, the second with two. The wooden monkey moved five squares and stopped. Already the greenish mist was beginning to reappear in the stone. Constance uttered a small groan of apprehension and covered her eyes. The others squinted at the words materializing in the green mist.

_Every month at the quarter moon, there'll be a monsoon in your lagoon._

"What's a monsoon?" said Constance, peeking through her stubby fingers.

"Rain," said Reynie.

"A _lot _of rain," said Kate.

"Well, it's a good thing we're inside, then," said Sticky in a falsely cheery voice. He got up and moved over to the only window in the room to look at the sky. It was cloudy, to be sure, but it didn't look _monsoon _cloudy.

"Uh…" said Reynie, and his tone made the hairs on the back of Sticky's neck stand up. He turned to see what he was looking at, and saw him staring straight up at the ceiling—except that the ceiling was gone. In its place was a billowing layer of dark rainclouds.

"Oh," said Sticky.

"Oh," said Kate.

The first drops began to fall: great thick dollops of cold water, splashing onto the floor and soaking through the carpet. Constance hugged her knees close and shivered; Kate held her bucket over her head.

"Come on, it's my turn," said Reynie, taking the dice. "Let's get this over with."

"Wait," said Sticky. "Shouldn't we play someplace else?"

"Yeah," Kate agreed. "We don't want those wounds of yours getting wet." She gestured at Reynie's heavily bandaged back and thigh.

"Right." Reynie closed the board and tucked it under his arm, holding the dice in the other hand. They all stood up and began to trudge through the now pouring rain towards the door, where the water was leaking through the gap under the door and trickling down the stairs. They heard a drowsy moan from the gorilla somewhere below.

Just as Kate put her hand on the doorknob, something happened. The game sort of twitched—it gave a spasm in Reynie's arm and somehow struck his spine where the python had bitten him. Reynie gasped and his vision flickered; he dropped the game, which fell open, as well as the dice.

"It kicked me!" Reynie cried in disbelief. "The game kicked me!"

"Are you sure—?" Kate began, but Sticky interrupted.

"Where are the dice?"

"I lost them!" said Reynie, horrified.

Immediately, Kate, Sticky and Reynie dropped to the floor to search for the dice in the now-ankle-deep floodwater. They fished around blindly for a moment, and then Kate's hand shot out of the water, showering them all. "Got it!" she shouted triumphantly.

"See what it says," said Constance.

Reynie picked up the board and hastily shook the water off of it. There was green mist in the stone, but it didn't seem to be solidifying. "The rain's blurring the words!" he shouted over the deafening pitter-patter. He rubbed the surface of the stone feverishly with his sopping sleeve and cupped his hands over it to shield it from the raindrops. "_Beware the…_" he read, squinting at the green writing, but it was already disappearing. "_Beware the ground on which you stand; the floor is quicker than the_—aagh!"

The carpet beneath Reynie's feet melted. One second it was solid, and the next it was a thick, sticky pool of bubbling slime. His shoes and socks fell through at once, and the rest of his body was sinking fast. "Help!" he screamed, but his friends were having troubles of their own. The pool of quicksand in the floor was large enough that it had nearly swallowed up the game board, and Constance had gotten stuck in the quicksand herself trying to salvage it. Sticky grabbed her chubby hands and yanked. The girl's feet flew out of the carpet and she and Sticky went tumbling backwards to splash into the water. They scrambled to their feet again and hurried to help Reynie. The rippling pool of quick-floor was so large that Sticky had to hold Constance's ankles, and Constance had to float in the two-foot-high water to reach Reynie over the quicksand pit. Reynie grabbed the toddler's hands and Sticky pulled with all his might; Reynie rose a couple of inches.

Kate, meanwhile, had grabbed the dice, as it was her turn. Without waiting for her friends to prepare themselves—there was no time for that—she threw the dice onto the board. Eleven. She waited for the zebra piece to move.

Nothing happened.

She rolled again. Still nothing.

"It's not working!" she cried desperately, trembling in the freezing water, which was now up to her belt.

"What do you mean, it's not working?" said Reynie, spitting water out of his mouth.

"It's. Not. Working!"

"Reynie—what number did you roll?" said Sticky suddenly, still holding on to Constance's feet.

"What does it matter—?"

"_What number did you roll?_"

"I don't know!" said Reynie irritably. "It was… It was a two, I think!"

"Then you rolled doubles!"

"So?" said Reynie, and then he remembered. "OH! _Doubles gets another turn!_ Toss me the dice, Kate!"

Kate obeyed without thinking; Sticky screamed "No!" a second too late. Both dice tumbled through the air, and of course Reynie could only catch one of them.

Reynie broke away from Constance, who pulled back. The first die landed in his hand, but the other one plopped into the patch of quicksand and sank through. Reynie plunged his hand through the floor and tried to catch it, but he was too late.

"Did you get it?" said Constance.

"No, it brushed my hand, but I dropped it!"

"Then drop the other one," said Sticky, "_Quick!_"

Reynie opened his fist and the die tumbled out of it. He didn't hear them hit the floor in the foyer below, nor did he see how many spaces his piece moved, because at that moment he gasped and his head went underwater.

It was the coldest water he'd ever been in. The water was roaring, swishing, swirling in his ears. There was no hope of pulling his hand out of the floor, so he stretched his free hand up as far as he could and prayed for one of the others to take hold of it. He was holding his breath, but if he didn't get out soon he would drown. Already his legs and waist were under the floor, hanging out of the ceiling in the foyer. Even in his predicament, a comical scene flashed through his mind of the strangeness of seeing a pair of legs sticking down out of the ceiling.

He was not the only thing sinking; the patch of quick-floor was acting like a drain for the rainwater, which was gushing through it and splashing into the foyer, creating a whirlpool that sucked Reynie down ever-faster. Now he was up to his chest… now his shoulders… now his neck… now his nose… now his eyes.

Finally, his whole head broke into the foyer, and he saw the water leaking into it through the ceiling and the stairway. The scorpion's body was floating around like a disgusting fish. He was suspended only by one hand. The water gushed over him, slapping his face, making him cough and splutter. Another second and he would have fallen.

Another hand grabbed his own, and he could tell by the strength of the grip that it was Kate. He moved up another few inches—but then, to Reynie's chagrin, the hand slackened and let go, to be replaced by a sharp pain in his index finger.

Reynie dropped out of the ceiling and fell with a huge splash into the foyer. He was dazed by the fall, but nothing appeared to be broken. He could still move, at least. Vaguely, he remembered the dice and snatched them off the floor.

He looked up; the patch of quicksand was spewing out water into the room, and there were other things dropping out too, strange little black dots that moved too quickly to make out. Suddenly the pain in his forefinger increased and he lifted it—and saw a wriggling leech attached to it.

He made a noise of disgust and surprise and wrenched the slimy thing off of him. Its tiny teeth left a bloody ring around his fingernail. He looked up. He briefly considered throwing the dice up through the ceiling to his friends, but he knew that the quick-floor would immediately spit them back out. He looked at the doorway, where he could see the water and five or six more shiny leeches spilling down the stairs.

Reynie ran up the stairs, ignoring the stabbing pain in his side and the wounds from the snakebite, which were bleeding freely again. He knew that he had to get the dice to his friends, because it was Kate's turn and they were trapped in the tapestry room with the leeches. Oh, the tapestries… They would be ruined! What would Mr. Benedict say?

He tore up the staircase, passing the bathroom in which the now wakeful python was pounding itself against the door. He reached the second floor, and saw that water was positively spraying out of the edges of the door, searching for a way through. Obviously it was rising very fast, because the water went all the way to the top of the door.

Reynie grabbed the doorknob and turned it. With a tremendous effort, he slowly pushed the door open—forward, directly against the flood. Water shot through the door with impossible force, much stronger than the force Reynie was applying to the door from the other side; it swung shut and the water washed over his body. He barely had time to toss the dice out to Kate, Sticky and Constance before he was swept down the stairs in a shower of rain and leeches.

Kate saw Reynie at the door, and she saw the dice fall short and plunge into the deep water. She and Sticky had found a small table, and now the three of them were holding on for dear life, trying to stay on top of it. She had seen the words appear in the black stone—_Snakily slithering up from the flood, leeches are coming to drink your blood_—and she had been forced to let go of Reynie's hand when the evil little things attacked.

Now she, Constance, and Sticky watched in horror as the dice fell into the churning water and the sea of black leeches.

"I'm going to have to go in after them," she said immediately.

"No!" cried Sticky.

"It's okay," said Kate gently. "I'll be fine. Now…" She stared at her poor bucket, and knew what she had to do.

She latched her fingers around the metal flip-top and, with a considerable amount of yanking, managed to break it off. She gave it to Sticky and said, "Here—take this and row!"

"Row?" said Sticky, nonplussed.

"Yes, _row!_ Paddle us towards the dice."

Sticky did as he was commanded, fighting the wild current with his makeshift oar, and Kate leaned over the side of their table. She knew that if she put her hand in the water, a swarm of leeches would attack it immediately. That was why she had gotten rid of the flip-top. She dumped the bucket's contents onto the table in attempt to save it from what she was about to do.

Once Sticky had managed to use to the bucket's lid to row them close enough to the dice, Kate held her beloved bucket firmly by the handle and dipped it into the water where the dice were half-floating, half-sinking. Immediately it filled up with water and quite a few leeches. She fished around until the dice were scooped up inside, and then she pulled the bucket back out of the water.

Sticky and Constance helped her pull out the leeches, and then she grabbed the dice. She stuffed her things back into the wet pouches. "I'm going to roll!" she shouted over the pounding rain. "Okay?"

Sticky and Constance nodded as the water beat their heads and dripped down their faces and made their clothes as heavy as lead. Sticky rubbed his eyes; the downpour was blurring his contacts.

The dice tumbled into a wing on the board and Kate cupped her hands over the stone to read it:

_As raging waters ebb and flow, beware piranhas down below._

"Oh no," said Kate. "Oh _no_."

"What is it?" said Sticky fearfully.

"It's—_that_!"

Something the size of a bowling ball leaped out of the water at them. Kate swung her bucket like a baseball bat and sent it smacking into the tapestry on a wall. It paused for a moment before falling into the water, and they got a good look at it: a bug-eyed, fat piranha with teeth like knives.

Constance screamed. Dozens of thick, dark objects were now zooming around in the water in addition to the leeches—and unlike the leeches, these things could _jump_.

Sticky batted one of them away with the lid to Kate's bucket—but then another one grabbed onto it with its teeth and he tossed it away in fright. Thinking it was prey, six or seven piranhas shot towards the fliptop and fought over it until they realized it was only a metal disk and turned their attentions back to the four children on the raft. Kate, preoccupied by the piranhas, set her bucket down on its side and almost let it roll into the water. In the nick of time, she snatched the handle—but the end of her rope, the only item not secured in a pouch, slid into the water, where a piranha bit it and began pulling it down.

"Oh, no, you don't!" she yelled, grabbing the other end of the rope. Three more piranhas joined the first, and soon they were threatening to pull Kate into the water.

"Kate, let go!" Sticky cried.

"But—"

"It's just a rope!"

Their makeshift raft dipped forward. Two of the table legs stuck out of the water; each had a few piranhas gnawing on it. Leech-filled water poured into Kate's lap.

"We're going to capsize!"

"I've had this rope for—"

"LET GO!"

She relinquished her grip on the rope. The piranhas dragged it into the depths until it faded from view in the churning water. She felt ashamed of herself; to think how close they had come to falling into the water because of her emotional attachment to that rope! She shuddered—she dare not picture what would happen if they fell in.

Due to the combination of rainfall, swirling drainage, and the swimming creatures, the water was churning and frothing crazedly. The children couldn't do anything to stop it—all they could do was hold on. The chaotic current spun them about and slammed them into a wall; the wood splintered. Kate grabbed hold of Constance to keep her from falling off.

The water was now so high that their heads were almost literally in the clouds. There were no windows in this room, which meant that the only way for water to escape was through the cracks in the doorway. If something wasn't done, they would reach the ceiling. Soon, the whole room would be underwater—but Kate had a nasty feeling that they'd be ripped to shreds before they drowned. What could the three of them do, trapped on this breaking raft?

After it had finished mangling the rope, one of the less bright piranhas swam down to the floor, where the quicksand was acting like a slow, clogged drain, creating a whirlpool. The piranha swam a little too close and was swept up into the vortex. It spun around and around, slowly descending until it spiraled right through the floor into the ceiling below. It hit the ground flapping crazily, startling Reynie in the foyer.

He yelped. _Piranhas_? He looked fearfully up at the ceiling, where the occasional piranha was now _flunk_-ing through along with the leeches and rainwater. The ceiling looked as though it had a gigantic coffee stain on it, soaked from above by the supernatural monsoon; Reynie was reminded of the way a leaky ceiling looked during a rainstorm. Leeches and piranhas bounced around frantically in the ankle-deep water, which was pouring from the spot of quicksand in the ceiling as well as down the stairs and would soon be high enough for the piranhas to swim again. From deeper in the house, he heard pounding rain, the screams of his friends, and somewhere there was a python fighting to get out of its prison and a gorilla probably awakening even as everything else unraveled. It was absolute pandemonium.

"What on_ Earth_ is going on in here?"

Bright light spilled in behind him. The front door was open—and Rhonda Kazembe was framed in it, staring in complete shock at the scene before her.

"Rhonda!" cried Reynie. "What are you doing back?"

"I came to get papers for Mr. Benedict—and check on you." She looked around, an expression of disbelief on her face. "Would you care to explain why there's water running down the stairs?" From her tone, Reynie could tell she thought they had caused some sort of fiasco with the plumbing. Suddenly she cried "Ouch!" and lifted up her foot. A leech was attached to her ankle. She plucked it off. "What the—is that a _leech_?"

She looked at Reynie in utter bewilderment, and Reynie had no idea how to respond. He heard wood creaking above him, and looked up—and realized what was about to happen. He launched himself at Rhonda, hands out in front of him; she shrieked in alarm.

It seemed to happen in slow motion: the ceiling at last reached the end of its tether and broke into a hundred pieces, gallons upon gallons of water fell down into the foyer and began to spew through the entryway into the street outside. Reynie and Rhonda hit the asphalt painfully and water (thankfully no piranhas) spilled over them.

Meanwhile, Sticky, Kate, and Constance were taken completely by surprise when the ceiling caved—the floor, for them. They fell freely for a stomach-flipping second, and then they were tumbling down as if on a deadly waterslide. Sticky's head smacked into the top of the doorframe, and they shot out into the overcast day outside.

Reynie and Rhonda scrambled to their feet, Rhonda staring without comprehension at the water now dumping onto the neighbors' lawns and Reynie anxiously looked for his friends. He spotted them on the ground, sliding across the lane clinging to something brown and misshapen. Reynie raced over to them. "Constance," he said shakily, helping them up. "Kate. S-st-ticky."

Sticky was bleeding. Kate had lost her bucket. Constance was shivering and trying not to cry. Reynie hugged each of them as tightly as he could—which wasn't very tightly after everything he'd been through. "I'm so sorry," he said in numb mortification. "That was all my fault…."

"No, it wasn't," said Kate firmly.

"It was," he insisted. "I dropped the dice, I caused—"

She silenced him with a return bear hug that made the bites on his leg and back twinge. "You're safe. We're all _safe_."

"But look at the house…"

The front doors were hanging from their hinges. Water was raining down two stories into the foyer. Piranhas were flopping almost comically on the front steps.

Sticky pulled a leech out of his shirt. "Well," he said, "looks like we're going to have to find a new place to play."

He laughed weakly. "I guess so."

They looked around at a small kind of scream behind them. Rhonda was staring helplessly at the water trickling down the street. She turned to the children with an expression that looked as if she had woken up and found herself in outer space.

"Would someone _please_ tell me what in God's name just happened?"


End file.
